


Flaw in My Code

by EMMegs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ALL THE FRIENDSHIPS, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk is anxious, Keith is worried, Lance is lonely, M/M, Multi, Pidge is insecure, Shiro (Voltron) Angst, Shiro has breakdowns, Voltron Hell, What is this bullshit??, Why is there so much Shiro pain? No one knows, i didn't ask for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EMMegs/pseuds/EMMegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes over two months of anxiety and strife to get everyone back together in the castle alive and even then they can't form Voltron. </p><p>Or: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SEASON CLIFFHANGER AHHHHHHHHH</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You can't wake up

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry. There are probably inconsistencies but I tried okay?? Also I probably went overboard with Shiro's mental instability because I CANNOT HELP MYSELF OKAY?
> 
> (This is saved as "Voltron Speculation HellTM" on my computer. I am dying please send help) 
> 
> Title (and all chapter titles) from the lyrics of Gasoline by Halsey because apparently I like pain.
> 
> Please be kind to me. I just have a lot of feelings. And I never planned for this feelings-vomit to get as long as it is.

Everything is on fire.

There’s a burning sensation crawling up his legs, into his stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes his aching arms against the ground, floor, whatever it is he’s lying on. Or tries to. His right shoulder gives out before his arm is even halfway extended.

Everything is burning.

Not like the warm glow that sitting at dinner with his own little patched together family gives him. Not like Shiro’s scolding gaze and tone. Not like Pidge’s facepalm when he makes a bad pun, even if their shoulders are still shaking with laughter. Not like Hunk’s comforting hugs and worried glances. Not like the feeling in his gut when he catches Keith actually _laughing_ at one of his jokes. Not like the soothing heat of Blue purring in his mind.

Blue. Lance reaches out with his mind for his connection to Blue. His head _sears_ with white hot pain. His eyes snap open and he rolls onto his back to stare up at the night sky from his place on the ground, through the smoky, fast moving clouds, mouth opening and closing with silent screams. 

Blue’s ejected him. She’s cut him off. And it only takes a small swivel of his head to the left to know why.

Blue is consumed with fire.

He scrambles to his feet using mostly his left arm and his entire right leg almost collapses underneath him when he makes it. He catches a nearby tree for support. His head swims.

 _Water_. There must be water somewhere.

He searches all around frantically. There’s got to be a river or something around here right? Trees can’t grow if there isn’t water? Even alien trees? Right? _Right?_

There is no river and he brings one hand to his spinning head, burying his hand into his hair. _Think, Lance. Think, think, think, think, THINK._

There are tears blurring his vision as he watches the flames creep around Blue. His Blue.

He’s her paladin but what use is he if he can’t even put out the fire that’s consuming her?

 

 

The alarm lights are blaring, long soundless. Keith is trying not to beat on the dashboard of Red in frustration. They just _had_ to fall out of the wormhole straight into the lap of a Galra fleet near this planet that’s basically just one gigantic _ocean_.

And Red’s systems had to be just _that_ thrown off by the goddamn black magic in the portal that they both hadn’t been able to react fast enough to defend themselves.

He can feel blood dripping down the side of his face. There’s already a layer of water on the floor of the cockpit up to his ankles.

“Dammit,” he mutters, “Come on, Red. Don’t do this.”

He knows talking to her isn’t gonna help any at this point. She’s paralyzed, almost completely offline besides the faint presence in the back of his mind.

She can’t do anything, more water is filling the cockpit by the second, and the cockpit door is locked in place and won’t open.

He’s trapped. He’s trapped in the middle of an ocean planet with only an hour of oxygen in his helmet once he puts it on.

“Red, please,” he whispers, leaning his hands on the dash. She whines in the back of his mind, a comforting, apologetic thing. One hand clenches into a fist. “I know, Girl. It’s okay.”

The water has risen up to his knees. He tries the coms again.

“Shiro? Allura? Lance? _Anyone_?”

There’s just static.

Keith stares out the cracked windshield of Red as the water rises to his waist. The red alarm lights wash the room in alternative darkness and blood red. He listens to the static on his coms and, for once, he wishes that at least he could hear Lance’s chatter to ease his physical drowning. He’s been drowning for so long in so many different things but it’s never felt like freezing water pulling at his arms and his chest.

It’s been a strain on his muscles as he trains. The fire of his anger yanking at his sternum. The tug of Pidge’s fingers on his sleeve as they snark him. The pull of Hunk’s reassuring hand on his shoulder because he knows that Keith hates surprise hugs. The steady hold of the gaze when his and Shiro’s eyes meet. But most of all, he’s been drowning in the smooth grip of Lance’s looks, his voice, his sheer determination, even his endless chatter. He knows how long he’s been drowning in Lance, but he doesn’t know when it is that he realized he _was_ drowning.

The water brushes over the tops of his shoulders and Keith pulls his helmet on.

He takes a deep breath and glances toward the hole where water is pouring in.

He’s going to drown. His bayard slips into sword form in his hand. He has to tread water to keep his head above the water. Red’s presence nudges the back of his mind. His head hits the ceiling and he closes his eyes briefly.

He tilts his head, takes a final deep breath, and activates his helmet’s seal.

 

 

Chanting and muttering echo in Shiro’s ears despite the fact that his hands are clamped tight over them. Everything is loud and nothing will stay in one place. An image of Haggar flickers around him, her laughter echoes around Black’s cockpit. He throws a punch at her, curled fingers glowing purple, but his hand just melts part of the wall that it hits.

There are voices in his head, his own voice whispers things, hisses them ferociously. He can’t tell anymore which voice is his, which one he’s talking to.

He punches at another image and hits a wall again.

He doesn’t know how Haggar got into Black. How she slipped into his head. He doesn’t know if she’s actually there.

“You know it’s useless to fight it, Champion.”

He grunts as his hand hits the pilot’s seat. Purple sparks fly, jumping over the dashboard. Black’s growls just add more noise to his overwhelmed head. Red warning lights begin to flash overhead, bathing everything in their bloody light.

“Who did you think you could save?”

His knees drop from under him. His hands hold the sides of his head like if he squeezes hard enough everything will stop—the voices, the screams, the visions, the _pain_. Haggar appears before him again, squatted to stare into his face.

“You can’t even save yourself.” He swipes a left hook at her that unbalances him when her image disappears and forces him fully to the floor. His knees curl toward his chest. “You’re the one they should be afraid of, Champion. You’re the fox in their henhouse, so to speak.”

“No,” Shiro whispers as he sees himself tackling Matt to the ground, bloodlust in his eyes, sees him cornering Samuel, his arm buzzing with electricity.

“Ejection in 60 seconds,” a voice says from the dashboard and Shiro manages to hang onto it and stumble to his feet.

He tries to cancel the ejection. But Black isn’t accepting his commands anymore. He pounds his hands on the dashboard.

His mind flashes to Pidge for a split second, their face when he canceled the download that might tell them where their family was.

“Ejection in ten.”

There’s blood all over his hands. He wipes at his ears, his body, but it isn’t his blood. He’s not bleeding.

“Nine.”

“Champion,” Haggar says again and there’s a smug grin in her voice.

“Eight.”

He whirls around, searching for something. Anything to anchor him. Anything to tell him what’s real.

“Seven.”

The blood on his hands creates a trail to the storage compartment he wrenches open.

“Six.”

“You know you aren’t going to find the young one’s family,” Haggar says.

“Five.”

He tosses a feeble hit in the direction of Haggar’s voice but she’s isn’t there. Maybe she never was.

“Four.”

“Black _please_!” Shiro screams as he yanks a short rope out and ties it around his waist.

“Three.”

“You won’t find them,” Haggar cackles again.

“Two.”

He catches a glimpse of himself in the reflective surface of the storage compartment’s door and his eyes are glowing yellow. He shoves away from it only to be confronted by the bloody torn apart remains of Samuel and Matt Holt on the floor before him.

“One.”

“You won’t, because you know you killed them.”

Shiro’s screams echo in his own ears, mingling with those of Matt and Samuel and the roar of Black as he’s sucked out of his lion and into space for the second time.

 

 

The alarms in Green turn off as soon as Pidge is able to right her. Besides some turbulence, it isn’t as bad as they expected. Honestly, it could have been way worse. They could have been thrown straight into a planet or consumed by a black hole. Green’s systems could have taken major damage. Thankfully, she seems to be almost perfectly fine aside from some light shudders from the black magic that had briefly engulfed them.

Pidge takes in their surroundings. They seem to have been spit out near a planet with an atmosphere cluttered with satellites and other metal. Pidge scowls. “What do you think Green?” they ask softly and hears an uncertain whine in response.

“If it’s Galra, we can still fight our way out right?” The next answer is a more certain, determined growl.

“Okay. We’ll turn on your cloaking just in case though, alright?” Pidge mutters and presses on the switch for Green’s cloaking. They grip the controls and fly Green straight down to the planet, dodging through debris along the way.

Green touches down on the surface of the planet and Pidge is amazed at what they see. Everything is metallic and machinery but none of it is Galra tech. There’s no purple-pink glow to it. Just a bunch of robots walking around like normal people. There isn’t a single piece of flesh or plant-life in sight. Pidge runs a test on the planet’s air to see if it’s breathable. It is. Slightly acidic but breathable.

Green lets out a low whine when Pidge even starts to think about getting out.

“I have to investigate this, Green,” Pidge says, pushing eagerly at the hatch to Green’s cockpit.

One of the robo-people outside starts shouting before Pidge manages to convince Green to let them out. “Intruder! An intruder! One lifeform detected within its belly!” Other robo-people start to swarm around Green’s feet, grabbing hold of them. Green’s whines increase.

Pidge’s eyes dart to where the cloaking is still very clearly activated. There would have been a warning if the cloaking wasn’t functional. That meant that they had detected Green with something other than sight. Pidge, despite every survival instinct screaming at them to trust Green’s judgment on this one, is intrigued.

“They must have some kind of sensor that picks up a wide range of signals,” Pidge mutters.

_We don’t know that they’re friendly._

Pidge waves the thought away. They were sentient robots. Who knew how they had gotten there? Who _would_ know unless Pidge did some investigation? Besides they definitely weren’t Galra droids.

“We want to see the lifeform!” one of them declared. “Give us the lifeform, giant beast!”

Pidge activates the outer coms to speak to them. “Greetings! My name is Pidge and I’m a paladin of Voltron. You’re kind of spooking my lion. So if you could back up a bit, I’d be happy to come out and meet you.”

The response is immediate. The swarm of robo-people back away from Green and instead form a crowd in a neat barrier around them. Pidge thinks about it a moment longer then sends out a signal for Allura to pick up on before overriding Green’s lock on the hatch.

Pidge steps out of Green. Their feet hit the ground and they stand up straight and wave. “Uh. Hi.” The robo-people seem just as intrigued by them. One of them steps forward and lifts Pidge’s arm, a blue scan runs along their arm from the robot’s eyes, then down their body.

“Pi-d-ge,” the robot repeats. “You are not of Galra species. Welcome.”

“Yeah,” Pidge says as their arm is released. “I’m human. From Earth? I dunno if you’ve heard of Earth before. Or Voltron for that matter.”

“We have not encountered your species before,” the robot says.

“Well,” Pidge starts.

“We would like to become more familiar with you and your species as well as why you have come.”

“My team got separated in a worm hole and it spat me up here. That would be why I’m here. And I was just kinda curious because I’ve never encountered an entire planet of robots before. How did you come here?”

“Robots?” the murmur seems to spread among the entire crowd.

“We are not robots!” the not-robot in front of them says in as close to a tone of indignation as a robotic voice can get. “We are C.O.P.!” Pidge frowns and the ‘C.O.P.’ elaborates, “Cybernetic Organic People. The metallic casing is merely grown to protect for our soft insides.”

Pidge can hardly believe it. _Grown_ robots. Fascinating. “Oh I see. Well. Uhh. I’m sorry if I was offensive—“

“We must familiarize ourselves with your person! We have not had another lifeform on our planet since the Galra attempted to take over!”

Pidge can only look around in surprise as the C.O.P. begins to lead them away from Green. Green lets out an anxious whine in their head as Pidge gets farther away and Pidge sends back a quiet reassurance.

“Do you eat?” Pidge asks as they try to discern how the C.O.P. must be put together.

“Yes. But not in the way that your kind probably assumes,” the C.O.P. says.

Pidge nods, thinking they probably divest solar energy or some other kind of renewable energy in order to keep this many C.O.P. and their cities powered. It’s the only logical conclusion. The C.O.P. lead them into a short, flat building.

“We are so excited you are here,” the C.O.P. says. And it’s practically bouncing on its spring-loaded legs. “We were running short on compatible spare parts. The Galra ones can only last us so long.”

Pidge comes to a horrified stop as the weight of the C.O.P.’s words combine with the sight that meets them as they round the corner into a room. There are full Galra bodies floating in some sort of liquid all around the room. Some are cut open with organs spilling out. Jars packed with hearts and livers and brains are scattered on tables at random.

A cold hand takes Pidge’s arm.

“I sense a spike in your heartrate. Are you alright Pi-d-ge?”

Pidge takes one more look around the room then turns their gaze to the C.O.P. holding their arm in a death grip.

Pidge borrows a word that Lance may have used in this situation. “I’m just peachy.”

 

 

When the space around Yellow becomes clear, Hunk feels his face pale. “Crap.”

Two dozen Galra fighters fire on him. At least a dozen shots hit Yellow before Hunk wrangles the controls and dodges. He returns fire, fighting the urge to barf as Yellow rolls out of the way of several more shots. Two ships blow up. Another two collide into each other.

Another two dozen fighters and a battle ship can be seen in the near distance.

If there was ever a time for Hunk to swear, it would be now.

He can’t fight off this many ships on his own. It’s near impossible without cover fire from his teammates. So that leaves the other option.

“Okay Yell… We’re gonna have to do some real fancy flying. I’ll try not to puke on your dash this time.” Yellow offers him a little purr of contentment and Hunk punches the boosters, steering off away from the fighters. He’s starting to think there’s no way he’ll out run them when they suddenly pull back.

Hunk isn’t sure why and then something hits him. Something hard and heavy. Another rock hits them and Hunk’s nearly thrown into the dashboard. Red lights go off, the alarms blare. Hunk squints at the lights that start flashing on his dash to indicate an issue.

“Oh come _on_!” Hunk yells as a rock the size of Yellow’s head smashes into her hind quarters and sends them spinning. He tries to weave his way through the meteor shower he’s apparently gotten himself stuck in the middle of. Rocks of all sizes speed past him. Most of the big ones he can avoid. The smaller ones are the issue because most of them are small enough to barely even dent Yellow but the few that are big enough to harm her hit hard.

Yellow lets out a roar and speeds off in a straight line before Hunk can maneuver her around the shower. A rock hits from above hard enough to nearly dent the ceiling straight down into Hunk’s head. Hunk lets out a shout of surprise and ducks his head.

By the time they’ve gotten out they’ve escaped the Galra fleet but Yellow’s systems are so damaged that she lets out a sigh as her engine turns off.

“No! Yell! Come on! You can do it baby!” She locks the hatch and the airlocks, trapping Hunk in the cockpit and powers down. The only thing still working are the coms, which are just static and have been through this entire ordeal.

Hunk sighs and places his arms on the dash, dropping his head down on top of them. After a couple minutes, he scrutinizes the giant dent above his head and taps into his coms.

“Okay guys. _Please_ tell me one of you reads me…”


	2. This is not a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue puts out the fire. Keith drowns. Shiro creates a trail of blood. Pidge is in Deep Shit. Hunk picks up weird alien transmissions. Everyone is a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like... so amazed by the response I've gotten?? So here: have another chapter of mortal peril.

_Can a Voltron Lion die?_

Lance wanted to think it was impossible but he thinks he might be watching Blue die before him. Her presence in his mind is a mere whisper if it’s there at all. He tears at his hair with his good hand while his mind keeps up a constant stream of _think think think think think_ and self-depreciation at not thinking quickly enough.

 _Fire is weak to water. Fire feeds off oxygen_.

“Blue!” Lance yells, not even sure if she can really hear him. “Blue you need to roll!”

She whimpers audibly and Lance curses at the implication of it. Not enough energy. Too much damage.

“There’s gotta be something you can do, Blue! I’m useless right now! There’s no water _anywhere_!” He briefly takes stock of himself and realizes that his right shoulder is basically shot and most of his weight is resting on his left leg. “I couldn’t carry any water to you even if there was!”

Keith had fire power. Keith would have been able to start a fire like this or maybe even put it out. Lance’s hand clenches into a fist at his side. Keith always did things better. He’d found his element power first and—

“Wait,” Lance murmurs. “Ice. Blue you have ice! You have water _in_ you!”

Lance waits for some kind of reaction but there’s nothing. “Come on, Blue!” he yells at her. “Use your elemental canon! You can at least make a puddle of water big enough to put out the flames!”

All is quiet for a moment then a ball of blue light charges up in Blue’s mouth.

“Yes!” Lance shrieks as she turns her head enough to shoot an ice beam toward her burning hindquarters. As Blue’s head flops back toward the ground and her eyes go dark, Lance springs forward and pats her nose. “Good girl. You go ahead and rest now.”

Something sinks in his gut as he tries to hold onto that final little whisper. He distracts himself by finally paying attention to the pain radiating from different parts of his body. There’s blood in his hair, he’s almost certain that his shoulder is dislocated, and something’s sliced the back of his right knee enough that it stabs and burns at the same time.

But they’re okay. He and Blue are okay.

 

 

Keith takes about a minute getting used to the way that things look underneath the water, getting used to his breath fogging the glass of his visor. The metal of Red’s armor groans with the pressure as they sink deeper and Keith only has a moment to question whether or not this is the best idea or not.

“Sorry, Red,” he mutters as he swims toward the hole near the ceiling where the water had been leaking through into the cockpit.

He only considers for a second the repercussions of shoving his sword into a hole where there could be live wires before he does it. The metal around the hole groans as he uses the jets on his suit to angle him well enough to use his sword as a crowbar. The hole previously big enough to fit four fingers through now can fit his entire hand.

But they’re still sinking at a rate faster than he can pry.

Red growls as Keith works and Keith isn’t sure how to interpret the noises. Is she in pain? Can she even feel pain? Is she upset? Angry?

His head can fit through and there’s a timer in the corner of his visor screen telling him he has 30 minutes of oxygen left when a surface crack in the corner appears. Keith swears and starts hacking at the corners of the hole. It just has to be big enough for his shoulders to fit through.

Red whines in what Keith interprets to be concern.

He huffs as he drags another gash in the metal. “It’s alright, Red. I can do this. Once I’m out, I can get to the surface and signal Allura and we’ll figure out a way to get you.”

The crack spider-webs when the timer hits 20 minutes and splutters down to 10. Keith keeps an eye on it while he hacks. A shoulder and his head. “Come on,” he mutters to himself. “I can do this faster.” But the timer’s counting down twice as fast now and the crack in his visor keeps creeping into the middle of his vision.

_If my visor breaks before I reach the surface, I’m screwed…_

He’s got two minutes on the clock by the time the hole is wide enough for him to fit through and he shoves his body through, pushing his arms against the outside of Red’s head.

One minute once he’s through the hole. He uses his suit’s jets to give him a boost and under him, Red roars loudly to send him flying upward just a little faster. “Thanks, Red,” he whispers as he shoots toward the surface. The cracks in his visor expand. His oxygen timer blinks zero.

Keith breathes in and chokes on it. There’s at least another hundred feet to go.

His mouth keep trying to take in air but gets back only his stale exhales. One arm flails and sends him off course just slightly.

Fifty feet.

His jets splutter, not made for underwater excursions of this length.

Thirty feet.

Darkness touches the sides of his vision. The cracks on either side of his visor meet. 

Fifteen feet.

His jets die and he can’t breathe. His arms stretch upward and his feet lash under him.

Ten feet.

There’s a dark shape on the water above. Or maybe it’s the darkness creeping in on him.

Five feet.

_Shit I’m gonna drown._

His visor shatters and the water that blasts him in the face just lets allows the darkness to overtake him.

 

 

Shiro’s heavy breathing reorients him somewhat as he stares into the darkness of space surrounding him, pressing in on him. The distance between him and Black grows until he can hardly see her anymore. His breath echoes in his ears with a distant scream.

He couldn’t have. She was wrong. He couldn’t have harmed Matt _or_ Samuel.

How is he ever going to look at Pidge again?

A cruiser appears in his field of vision. Shiro’s arms move on their own accord as if to swim away from it. It gets closer and a purple tractor beam shoots out and encases him. His vision blurs.

_“Run!”_

Haggar’s laughter starts up again unaccompanied by an image now as he’s pulled into the cargo bay of the ship. The Galra that move forward to capture him recognize his battle suit.

“A Voltron paladin without his Lion, huh? Page the Emp—“

The Galra’s voice cuts and it falls to the floor as Shiro’s glowing hand slices through his throat. The second one backs up a bit, holding his arms up in a placating gesture.

Shiro has no mercy on him.

“I won’t go back.” Is that actually his voice snarling?

He leaves their bodies and a trail of blood as he makes his way toward the flight deck. He doesn’t even try to be discreet. He doesn’t care anymore. It doesn’t matter anymore. Any drones or soldiers he comes across don’t see what hit them before they hit the floor.

“Champ—“

His hand curls into a fist and drives it into the soldier’s chest. He hates that name. He is not a Champion. He’s not even sure if he’s Shiro anymore.

Is he even human?

_Of course you are. A Galra arm doesn’t make you inhuman._

**But killing your friends does.**

Shiro breathes in deep and mutters, “Shut up, shut up, shut _up_.”

He stands among Galra bodies and runs a scan of the ship for any other lifeforms.

_You should probably find Allura._

**Aren’t you worried you’ll hurt her too?**

“I’m not gonna hurt anyone,” he snarls, hands rising to his ears in an attempt to block out the noise.

_Hey, you’re alone on a Galra cruiser._

**What about Keith?**

_Keith’s practically a brother to you. You should find him. And Allura._

**And kill them like you killed Matt.**

“SHUT UP!” Shiro roars as he sinks to his knees.

There’s no one else on the Galra cruiser… But he isn’t alone.

 

 

 “Could you let me go?” Pidge asks, fighting to keep their voice calm.

“In a moment. We are commencing a structural scan.”

Pidge’s hand tightens around their bayard. Their teeth clench. “It’s kind of rude to run scans on someone without permission.”

“This is our customary greeting.”

“We already greeted each other outside…”

“Relax Pi-d-ge. All will be well.”

Energy vibrates through Pidge as their heart starts racing. These people are not very soothing and not convincing at all. Pidge brings the blunt of their bayard down on the C.O.P.’s arm joint to break their grip.

The reaction is immediate. A red light blinks on the top of the main C.O.P.’s head and it screeches, “Pi-d-ge is resistant to our customs! Lifeform has enacted violence!” Another C.O.P. grabs Pidge’s arm again. Another their leg. Another latches onto their shoulder. Pidge switches their bayard into weapon mode and tries to fight them. A couple C.O.P. take hits to their metal armoring and the shock shuts them down; others are more resistant to the shock from Pidge’s bayard and keep a firm grasp.

There are too many of them.

In less than two minutes the swarm of C.O.P. have overwhelmed Pidge and have them strapped to an operating table.

“You have compatible parts,” a C.O.P. with a scalpel in hand says.

“Let me go!” Pidge screams.

“You must be harvested.” The scalpel touches Pidge’s stomach with the aim to cut while Pidge attempts to thrash while yelling. The ground starts shaking before the C.O.P. can cut any further. The ceiling near the door to the lab caves in and Green drops through the hole.

 

 

Hunk is having a very bad day. He can only do so much to fix Yellow from the inside. He keeps a constant scan running on the coms for the castle or other lions but all that he gets is unclear alien chatter and static.

He tinkers and munches on ration bars to press back against the anxiety that settles in his gut.

Are the others okay? Did Allura and Coran make it out of the wormhole okay? Have they found anyone else yet? Is Lance eating okay and is he able to talk to someone? Is Keith stubbornly fighting rescuers? Is Shiro having flashbacks? Is Pidge’s Lion working at least better than his?

Hunk grits his teeth and slams his wrench down. “I can’t stand this!” he yells, tearing at his hair.

It’s been like a week already and he’s going _nuts_ not knowing how his teammates are. He tries the coms again. “Hunk here and going crazy. Is _anyone_ out there?”

Static. Ten seconds of it. Then…

 _“Champ… ruth… bushed… elp…”_ Hunk frowns and fiddles with the dial to clear up the signal.

A scream echoes through the com’s speakers that makes a shiver run down Hunk’s spine. Just behind the screams he can hear a solid mantra in what almost sounds like Shiro’s voice muttering, “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.”

Hunk presses his talk button. “Shiro? That you?”

But the channel has turned back to static.

Unease settles in Hunk’s stomach as he tries to scan for the signal again.

_“Paladins—“_

“Allura!” he outright shouts into the coms. “Allura, I hear you! Come in!”

He hears static again and groans, smacking his console.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: 5000 words of less mortal peril and a little more joy??
> 
> Feel free to yell at me about Voltron on tumblr: emfreddie.tumblr.com


	3. Your face all made up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone makes it home eventually, some more broken than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This still didn't turn out the way I expected it to and I'm not sure if I like it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lance starts to lose count of the days he’s left with nothing but the static of his coms to keep him company. Blue is there… But she’s not at the same time. It’s an odd feeling, like teetering with his toes over the edge of a cliff. She’s a presence that wavers in and out and she doesn’t speak. The fires had damaged her too much and Lance isn’t Hunk or Pidge. He doesn’t even know where he would begin to fix her.

He finds the water source that had alluded him when Blue needed it by the end of his first week.

There don’t seem to be any occupants of this planet at all, at least that he’s found, but it also isn’t being used for resources by the Galra. He doesn’t stray far from Blue either way. He travels just far enough over the first three weeks to gather wood for a fire and extra food. He sleeps either curled on the floor of the cockpit he regains access to once the fire’s completely out or on the ground next to his campfire, back pressed to the cold metal of Blue’s neck.

She’s cold and that scares Lance more than he’d like to admit, even if logic dictates that metal is _supposed_ to be cold.

“Okay guys… You can come get me any time now,” he mutters half-heartedly into the radio for what must have been the millionth time somewhere around week five.

Who is he kidding? They’re not there. They aren’t coming. With his luck, he’s probably poisoning himself with the deceptively delicious fruit he’s found here and he’s going to die all alone.

The very thought makes his chest ache. Blue, where she would normally make a comforting sound, is completely silent. He curls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. If he’s sobbing there’s no one around to witness it.

The trees sway in the breeze and a shiver runs down Lance’s spine as he lifts his head to face the night sky. Back at the castle he’d thought that the stars were comforting. Even if earth was distant, at least it was out there. Now though, with only himself to talk to, they’re just far. It doesn’t even feel like there’s anything out there anymore.

Lance’s eyes screw shut against the tears that press to the back of his eyes. No earth. No castle. No Blue. No Hunk’s cooking. No Coran’s exaggerations. No Pidge’s smug looks. No Allura’s scolding. No Shiro’s hand on his shoulder. No Keith’s fiery gaze.

He whimpers audibly and rests his forehead against his knees. He’s not even sure if he can hear his mother’s voice anymore. He can’t remember the cadence of it. Or his dad’s bellowing laughter. Or his sisters’ screeches. Or his brothers’ scuffling.

_Oh god. I’m gonna die out here and they’re never gonna know what happened to me._

He shoves the thought away immediately as he realizes his hands are shaking.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll be fine won’t we Blue? I’m sure they’re looking. They’ll find us. Allura’s good at picking up your signal right?”

Blue is still silent. Lance sniffles and buries his hands in his hair.

Shit. He’d even take Keith’s company right now. At least Keith would be another body. He picks up his helmet and presses the com.

“This really sucks guys. Like really, really. Like I’m gonna actually die. What’s taking so long?” He tosses the helmet angrily over the fire and it rolls to a halt, facing him. He scowls at it. “What’s taking them so damn long?” he mutters.

By week seven he’s almost turned the radio off because the static is grating on his nerves. He turns it on to yell in frustration every now and then but mostly he’s left to sit up against Blue, cry, and stare into the forest.

“You guys _suck_ at this rescue thing!” he yells, tears in his eyes, feet pacing along the length of Blue’s leg. “How long does it take to pick up a goddamn signal?” He winces has he moves his shoulder too fast in an erratic hand gesture that no one can see. “Fuck. I know it’s been _at least_ a month. _Come on_. My shoulder hurts and my knee’s mostly healed and my signal is still going out – or at least it _better be_ – and… fuck it. Talking like this is useless. You guys aren’t even listening. You aren’t there. You’re probably dead. Or off being a team without me. Because I was always the useless one. Don’t bother denying it. I’m not as good of a pilot as Keith. Or as mechanically minded as Hunk or Pidge. Or as leader-y as Shiro. God even Coran is more useful than me. I’m just… I’m just a cargo pilot.”

The tears are unbidden but familiar as they start to fall.

“I just want off this goddamn planet. I want my Mama and Papa. I want to hear my sisters fighting over who gets the bathroom in the morning and my brothers wrestling over the TV remote. I even want _abuela_ ’s weird chili. I WANT TO GO HOME!” He’s screaming now, arms wrapped around himself like that will hold in the force of his sobs. “I WANT TO GO HOME GODDAMMIT. GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE.”

“—nce!”

Lance freezes, mid-scream when he hears an interruption in the constant static. “Guys?” He holds his breath and doesn’t dare to hope.

“Lan… up… we… signal…” It sounds almost like… Keith? No maybe Shiro. He can’t tell.

“Shiro? Hunk? Allura? Guys?!”

“Yeah… We’re… signal…”

“I can’t hear you properly!”

“Calm… sending… you—“

The signal cuts out and turns back to static and Lance nearly starts crying because he’d let himself start hoping for rescue. He probably just imagined it anyway. He throws himself on the ground next to Blue and covers his face, letting out a long scream that just echoes back at him.

“LANCE!”

His head shoots up as he hears the yell. It’s definitely Keith. That definitely sounded like Keith. He stands up again, wiping at his eyes furiously. “I’M HERE!”

There’s a flash of red through the trees and Lance’s sprints toward it, nearly knocking Keith right off his feet. He contains the wince the contact causes his shoulder. “Thank god,” Lance just barely hears Keith breathe as his hands push him away gently and search him for injuries. “Are you okay?” Keith demands.

Lance barely manages to nod. “Now.”

“And Blue?”

His heart plummets as he thinks about Blue and her shady presence. “I… I don’t know. She hasn’t talked to me since we got the fire out. She’s…” Lance can’t stop the shudder that runs through him. His knees nearly give out just thinking about how bad of shape Blue’s in. Keith purses his lips and nods.

“Come on. We’ll get you into Red, pick Blue up and get back to the castle.”

Lance doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to see the Red Lion in his life.

 

Keith jolts awake with gasping, choking breaths. He hears voices speaking in some foreign tongue but can’t find the energy to face them quite yet. He lays there for a moment and breathes, coughing a little bit more. He throws an arm over his eyes.

_I didn’t drown…_

He tunes his ears into the voices. They don’t sound Galran, but he can’t really be sure. Reluctantly, he cracks his eyes open and peers over at the two whispering aliens in what appears to be a boat with him. One waves a spear-like weapon at him unsurely while the other turns his bayard around in his hand.

Keith shuts his eyes again and drops his head. He’s alive. Red may be down in the depths still but he can feel her. He lets himself lay there and let the two aliens mutter back and forth about him before he pulls himself up into a dizzying sitting position. The one with the spear jumps when he moves.

“Thanks for rescuing me,” he says, his voice dry and croaky. He coughs a little more.

“The earthling is speaking to us,” the one with his bayard squeaks, hitting his companion’s arm in nervous excitement. The one with the spear shoots a glare at them. “My name is Qu’sha. And he is Mxow.” Qu’sha gestures toward the spear-wielder.

“Qu’sha,” Keith repeats slowly. “And… Mxow.” The first name comes easier than the second. “I’m Keith. I’m a paladin of Voltron.”

“Oh yes! We saw your giant lion fall from the sky! The sea tried to swallow you but Mxow and I pulled you out!”

“I’m… very grateful for that. But see… Um… I kind of need Red.”

Qu’sha looks regrettable now. “Unfortunately, we do not have the materials or boat big enough to pull out the Red Lion.”

Keith sighs but he guesses that would have been pressing his luck. “Do you have a communicator at least? So I can send a signal to my team?”

“Yes! We have a short-range signal reader that we will let you borrow. It is back in the village. We will fetch it for you when we get back.” Qu’sha turns to Mxow and says something that makes Mxow roll his eyes. He puts his spear down though and picks up a paddle instead. Keith stares down into the water below them where he can just barely see the faint gleam of Red’s paint.

“Hold on, Girl,” Keith murmurs to her. He’s sure even with a short-range communicator he can wire it to send wider ranges that would get Allura’s attention.

Qu’sha and Mxow navigate the boat to land that Keith hadn’t seen when he was crash-landing. It appears to be an island. Not very big but there’s a village build right there on the beach that has a weird mix of more modern technology and older stuff. There’s something that looks like a satellite dish on top of one of the huts. Keith peers at it. That could be exactly what he needs to boost his signal. Qu’sha takes him to a nearby hut and sits him down, setting the communicator in his hands. His heart falls a little. It’s like an old earth radio with 30 stations and no intergalactic option.

He scowls a little.

“Is this not pleasing to you Keith?” Qu’sha asks, a frown of what Keith _thinks_ is concern on his face.

“It’s… fine,” Keith sighs. “I might have to tinker with it a bit to get it to work the way I need it though.”

Qu’sha dances on his toes a little. “Anything you need! Please let me know!”

Keith nods and tugs off his broken, water-logged helmet. Perhaps there’s a way to dry it out and hook it up to the radio? He bites his lip. “Was that a satellite dish I saw on that building?”

“Ah,” Qu’sha looks nervous and that in turn unsettles Keith a little. “Yes. It uhh…” Keith’s eyes narrow. He still hasn’t gotten his bayard back.

“Qu’sha…” Keith warns with just the alien’s name.

“It keeps Chief in contact with the Galra!” Qu’sha finishes with a squeak. Keith freezes. “We have made deals with them in exchange to be left alone! It is all we knew how to do to survive! Please Keith have mercy!”

Keith stares at Qu’sha then holds his hand out. “Give me my bayard.” Qu’sha throws it at him as though it has burned him. “Where did Mxow go?”

“To inform Chief of your arrival.”

Keith lets out a low growl. “Is Chief going to tell the Galra that Red and I are here?”

“Um… I… I don’t think so. We have awaited a Voltron Paladin for so long in hopes that you could help us get true freedom.” Keith narrows his eyes at Qu’sha again and he squeaks again. “Please believe me! We mean you no harm!”

Keith settles back a little, but still holds his bayard defensively. “I need to use the satellite dish,” he says finally. “There has to be a way to get this radio intergalactic.”

“Are you going to signal the other Paladins?”

“If I can. Red’s kinda useless at the bottom of the ocean and you’ve already said you lack the resources to pull her up.”

Mxow pokes his head in the door and says in a not-very-surprising deep voice. “Chief and the Village are at your disposal Paladin.”

Keith sighs and rubs his temple.

He’s there a week before he manages to send out a signal that won’t get picked up by the Galra.

And then another two before he gets anything back in return. “Keith?”

“Hunk? That you?”

“Yeah! Where are you?”

“Some… ocean planet.”

“Is the Red Lion still there? Her signal is very faint.” This comes from Allura. He can already hear the frown in her voice.

“It’s faint because Red’s on the bottom of the ocean.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Think you can help with that? Preferably _before_ the Galra find out that I’m here.” He taps his fingers on the table and glances toward where Qu’sha and Mxow are whispering again. He knows that they can’t keep the Galra unaware forever. Eventually something is going to make them come down. And then Keith will be screwed.

There’s some muttering on the other end before Allura speaks again. “Pidge says they and Hunk can probably install some deep diving modifications on a pod to haul up your lion.”

“Great. How long?”

Coran answers him. “Err. It’ll be about three earth days to your location. Possibly one more for the modifications to get finished according to Hunk.”

Keith sighs. He’s getting really tired of spiky-fruit smoothies and fish eyes. Also the looks from the locals are either suspicious or apprehensive. He’s caught a couple of the villagers looking up at the sky as though the Galra are about to drop down on them. “Okay. Just… hurry.”

By the time he sees the castle entering the atmosphere four days later he’s a wired ball of energy. Qu’sha keeps trying to placate him but nothing he says helps. Hunk flies the pod down to Red after some guidance to where she crashed. Pidge pilots Green down to meet him.

“You okay?” Pidge asks him as they watch him wring his hands.

Keith glances at Mxow and Qu’sha and shakes his head a little. Pidge frowns and looks over at them too, raising an eyebrow. Keith takes Pidge’s elbow and leads them away until the two locals are out of range. “I think someone may have informed Zarkon that we’re here.”

Pidge’s eyes widened. “They have connections to Zarkon?”

Keith presses his lips into a thin line and nods. “Qu’sha says that they had to make deals with the Galra to survive but…” Keith shakes his head.

“You think they’re not being entirely truthful?”

“I think they don’t have that much to offer the Galra other than spies or slaves.”

“So there’s no other way they would have kept Zarkon at bay.” Pidge nods along, following Keith perfectly. “You think we should get Red and leave ASAP?” Keith nods this time.

“Before the Galra show up. You find Lance and Shiro yet? We’re sitting ducks with Red the way she is and missing those two.”

Pidge winces at the mention of Lance and Shiro. “Shiro’s up there… But he’s… He’s not in the best shape.” Keith’s eyes raise in alarm. “Not physically. Physically he’s fine it’s just… You’ll see what I mean. Lance is still MIA.”

Pidge’s coms crackle to life with two different messages, one from Allura and one from Hunk.

“I got Red,” Hunk says.

“There’s a Galran fleet heading our way! I need Hunk and Pidge to their lions as soon as possible!”

Keith curses as he sprints after Pidge toward Green. “I was afraid of that.”

Pidge flies Green straight toward the fighters entering the atmosphere and tears them to shreds before Hunk even makes it known that he’s made it to Yellow. Keith looks over their shoulder, a little impressed. Allura calls for them to retreat before long though and she opens a wormhole to get them away.

Keith emerges from Green and takes in the sight of his poor water-logged Lion. He still feels her strongly in the back of his mind as he pats her nose.

“Let’s focus on getting you back in shape, huh?” he murmurs to her. “And finding Lance.”

She purrs in contentment.

 

The cruiser is too large for Shiro to fly on his own so he eventually calms down enough to take a fighter out of the hangar. He can’t read Galran so he has a rocky start before he gets a hang of the control. He doesn’t even know where he’s going to go just that he can’t stay on the cruiser forever.

_Allura. Find Allura. Find your team. Find Black._

He focuses on the voice in his head that actually speaks reasonably instead of the Haggar and the Dark Shiro.

He keeps it together for a few weeks, now that he’s calming down off the effects of whatever weird witchcraft juju Haggar had pumped into their wormhole. In his Galra fighter he goes relatively undetected by the Empire. But there’s no way for him to get a signal through to the castle or any of the other paladins, let alone the Black Lion that ejected him in the first place.

He really _really_ hopes the Galra haven’t found Black.

A lot of mindless Galran chatter comes across his radio frequencies and then he hears something about a Red Paladin on a planet trying to bring in the others. He lets his fighter float for a bit with that news while he tries to pinpoint where Allura might be if she were on the way to Keith.

**Are you really going to endanger them like this?**

Shiro scowls and bites his lip as he navigates into a plausible pathway between the planet where Keith is said to be stranded and the castle. Then he keeps his scanners open and waits.

He catches a signal from Allura garbled with some Galran after camping out a few days and locks onto its location.

What he finds is another Galra cruiser where Allura is supposed to be.

“It’s too late to save them,” Haggar breathes from just over his shoulder and Shiro almost believes her until his resolve hardens.

“No,” he says and flies the fighter closer, weapons ready. “You’re not real and I’m going to save her.”

He doesn’t expect the cruiser to immediately start firing at him as soon as he’s in sight. ‘ _Well things never go as we plan them,’_ he thinks and returns fire. He overpowers their shields and blows an engine before he relents, sending them a quick hail.

“This is the Black Paladin of Voltron. Return Princess Allura and I’ll leave you to die alone,” he says, an edge to his voice while he waits for the video screen to crackle to life.

“Shiro?” It’s obviously Allura’s voice but when the screen appears, the person is Galra. He blinks and shakes his head. “Oh Shiro! We wouldn’t have fired if we’d known it was you! Are you alright? We found Black floating in space without you a week ago and we worried.” The Galra’s mouth moves with the words of Allura’s voice and Shiro thinks he’s going to see red.

“Return Princess Allura to me,” he repeats and the Galra on board looks confused.

“Shiro… I _am_ Princess Allura.”

**She’s a liar.**

_No, no. Just wait._

Shiro battles with his own conscience for a moment, yanks his head backward and shakes it as though the action will actually clear it fully. The images of the Galran and the cruiser flickers to the Castle and Allura. Another Galran appears next to her and Coran’s voice speaks, “Shiro, we’re sending Hunk out to get you. Don’t worry. Just stay calm.”

He nods hesitantly and waits. If Yellow doesn’t appear he’ll assume it was a Galran trick and blow the cruiser to pieces.

And then the images flicker again, more concretely and the Yellow Lion flies toward him. Shiro gasps. “Allura?”

“Yes, Shiro?”

“I attacked you?”

She is quiet, looking somewhere off screen. “We’ll talk when you’re safe onboard,” she says and signs off.

 

The roar that Green brings forth is as possessive as it is terrifying. A number of C.O.P. have been squashed under Green’s gigantic paws, others are trying to swarm around and overwhelm her. She roars again and the C.O.P. that had been trying to cut into Pidge backs away from the table slowly.

“We did not mean offense to the Lion!” he cries, metallic knees quivering. “We are not used to another being laying claim to our targeted lifeforms!”

Pidge scowls. _They understand Green??_ Green’s mental presence nudges them lightly with a questioning growl. Pidge looks at Green and nods. The still quivering C.O.P releases Pidge’s restraints and they sit up, assessing the damage. Aside from chaffing on their wrists and a shallow cut on their stomach they feel just fine. Pidge glares toward the C.O.P. which cower before them.

“We apologize. We did not realize you were the spares for the Lion,” their leader squeaks robotically. Pidge narrows their eyes at him. So they respected and empathized with Green more than Pidge. They guess that almost makes sense. Green is closer to their anatomy than Pidge.

Pidge swings their legs off the table and strides toward Green, not bothering to correct the C.O.P.’s misguided moral compass.

“I… am going to get in my Lion and leave now,” Pidge says, carefully in control of every word. “And you will be lucky if my team doesn’t come back to interrogate or dissect you since you’ve obviously come in contact with the Galra and have either bargained with or overpowered them.”

If the C.O.P. could gulp, that is what the collective shiver that runs through the crowd is.

“Pi-d-ge,” the leader starts, only to quail under Pidge’s glare and the growl of Green.

Pidge strides aboard with their hands curled into fists at their sides and all but collapses in the pilot’s seat. Pidge runs a thankful hand over the dash and murmurs, “Thanks Green.” She purrs in response as Pidge grips the controls and pilots them straight up, away from the C.O.P.

Pidge realizes their hands are shaking once the planet of the C.O.P. is a mere speck behind them. They set the autopilot to hold them floating in space and shut their eyes, pulling in deep breaths that still feel suffocating.

They spring out of the pilot’s seat and search through their storage compartment until they find the first aid kit, just to have something to _do_ other than think about how they almost died and they’re all alone in space and God, Matt would have been a better pilot for Green, Matt would have been better at this, Matt wouldn’t have fallen for the technology of the planet, Matt would already have contacted Allura, Matt should—

Their thoughts grind to a halt as Green brushes up against their mind. Pidge takes a slow breath and stills their hands where they’re cleaning blood off of their stomach.

“I know, Green,” they mutter reluctantly. “I’m your pilot. I was always meant to be your pilot.” They close their eyes nonetheless and slump against the wall. Green’s presence is one of comfort as both human and lion prepare themselves for however long they’re going to have to wait for the castle to pick up their signal.

One week turns into the next and Pidge finds different parts in Green’s storage that they can tinker with to pass the time. They even figure out a way to boost Green’s signal, which is what Pidge contributes to the break in static a couple days into week three.

“Paladins can you hear me?”

Pidge scrambles from their place on the floor to the intercom and presses in immediately. “Pidge here!” they say.

“Thank the gods,” Coran mutters in the background. “That’s number two.”

“Pidge, we’re locking in on your coordinates now and will be there to retrieve you shortly. Don’t move.”

“Got it.” Pidge settles back into the pilot’s seat and mutters to Green, “We did it, Girl. Just a little longer and the gang will all be back together.”

 

It takes a couple days for Hunk to get Allura’s signal back but when he does, he lets out a huge sigh of relief. Once Yellow is parked in her hanger, Hunk emerges to be greeted by a tearful Coran and a grinning Allura.

“Have you found anyone else yet?” he asks eagerly.

Allura and Coran both look at each other and shake their heads. Hunk’s cheer drops significantly but he still manages to keep a smile on his face, just for the two of them. Both Alteans are looking at his battered Lion.

“My word,” Coran says, eyebrows in his hairline, “What sort of trouble did you run into?”

Hunk scratches the back of his head and says, “Well uhh… First the wormhole spit me out near a Galra fleet and then I ran into a meteor shower while fleeing.”

“That would do it.” Coran sounds way too cheerful for the situation but Hunk gets it. It’s a defense mechanism. Better to have cheer than lose yourself in the pits of despair. “Well either way, we should be able to get her up and running again in no time between the two of us.”

There is plenty to distract Hunk from the gnawing anxiety of not having anyone around for the next week. Yellow’s repairs take up the bulk of his time. Monitoring the coms takes up the rest. He doesn’t sleep very well knowing how empty the castle is and often wanders into the kitchen to experiment with the alien spices to get something similar to enchiladas for when Lance gets back on board.

They find Pidge almost on accident. One moment, there’s static answering their messages, the next Pidge is yelling over the coms that they’re alive and they’re there. With Pidge back on board, it doesn’t take long for them to boost the castle’s signals’ reach.

Hunk thinks there’s something weird going on when they find Black with no pilot; doubly weird when they come across a solitary Galra fighter but Allura and Coran waste no time firing up the castle’s defenses and getting ready to shoot it down. It takes out one of their engines before it sends them an audio message. That alone is a surprise. Normally it takes several fighters to even scratch the surface of the castle.

“This is the Black Paladin of Voltron—“

Hunk doesn’t listen any further after that because he recognizes Shiro’s voice. He’s rushing across the control room to Coran and pulling his hands from the triggers. “It’s _Shiro_!” he yells. “ _Shiro_ is piloting that thing!”

Coran and Allura are so shocked that they send an immediate video hail just to be sure. Hunk races toward his lion before either of them can tell him to, passing Pidge and their computer on the way.

When he brings Shiro on board, he looks like he’s about to jump out of his skin and Hunk’s brows furrow slightly. “You okay, Shiro?”

Their normally fearless leader nods but his eyes still skitter around and something akin to guilt or dread washes into his face when Pidge rounds the corner and yells like their dad has just come home for Christmas, “Shiro!!”

Shiro flinches and walks past Pidge with the smallest, most half-hearted wave Hunk has ever seen. Pidge’s enthusiasm dies a little as he passes without even glancing at them. Hunk puts a hand on their shoulder and squeezes but it doesn’t erase the hurt look on their face.

They very quickly realize that it isn’t a good idea to put Black and Shiro in the same room until Shiro’s better recovered when Black roars at him so loud that Hunk finds Shiro backed up against the wall of the hanger with his hands over his ears muttering a soft, “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

He gets Allura and she’s designated as the one to look after Shiro while Pidge, Coran, and Hunk focus on finding Keith and Lance.

Hunk’s idly (read: half-asleep with extreme boredom) scanning when he picks up, “Red Paladin to Castle of Lions,” on repeat along with a pulsing distress beacon.

Hunk scrambles to grab the mic. “Keith?”

“Hunk? That you?”

“Yeah! Where are you?”

“Some… ocean planet.”

Allura takes over from there. “Is the Red Lion still there? Her signal is very faint.” Hunk tunes her out and focuses purely on the sound of Keith’s voice. He sounds almost… strained.

“It’s faint because Red’s on the bottom of the ocean.”

Hunk’s eyebrows raise and he looks at Pidge, who stares back with a deadpan. “How were we doing on those deep diving mods?” he asks quietly.

They tap their chin. “Well. That wasn’t really something on our radar but it could work. Probably not with the lions though. Not without Blue.”

“A pod, maybe?” Hunk suggests.

Pidge nods. “Yeah. A pod could work.”

Allura conveys this thought to Keith while Hunk heads to the kitchen for a snack before he starts working on the pod. He’s glad to finally have something more active than coms scanning to occupy his nervous energy. They’ve pinpointed Keith but that just means that Lance is still out there somewhere. And he’s likely all alone wherever he is.

Hunk bites his lip as he fiddles with the pressure gauge on the pod. Lance has never done well with loneliness. He can hardly be alone for 24 hours before he’s practically begging for attention and Hunk knows that with his family as big as it is, there’s almost never been a time where Lance has been alone for longer than the 8-10 hours he’s asleep every night for his entire _life_.

Hunk wraps Keith is the biggest hug Keith can stand once he’s on board. The Red Paladin only looks mildly annoyed, residual from being on the ocean planet for so long, Hunk’s sure. But he also looks relieved to be back.

“We gotta find Lance,” Keith says when he pulls away from him. Their eyes meet and Hunk nods in determination. “If _I_ was starting to go nuts being surrounded by alien villagers and waiting for the Galra to descend on me for a little over a month, I can only imagine how Lance is doing.” Keith then seems to realize what he’s saying as Hunk’s eyebrows rise. “Not that I care about him _that_ much. But… he’s a teammate. We need him for Voltron.”

Hunk severely doubts that. “Uh huh. Sure.” Keith glares. “But we’re gonna have issues forming Voltron even with Lance if Shiro and Black can’t reconcile.”

Keith frowns at that. “Pidge… said something about that.”

“I was hoping maybe you could talk to him? Shiro I mean. Your presence might be just as soothing as Allura’s because you know him pretty well, right?”

Keith’s eyebrows pinch even more as he starts striding away, calling behind him, “Worry about Lance. Allura and I will worry about Shiro.”

Shiro doesn’t react much to Keith and the boy is shunned back to the efforts to find Lance and fix Red within a manner of days. Keith closes himself off a bit at the rejection of his mentor and spends most of his time either in the training room or in the control room manning the coms.

Hunk is the one to witness the moment when Keith comes across Lance’s voice screaming into the radio waves. Keith shoves the mic at Hunk, jams his helmet onto his head and bolts from the room, toward his lion.

He also catches the distraught look on Keith’s face the second he realizes what Lance is screaming about.

 _Doesn’t care about him, my ass._  

The moment he gets to hug his best friend again, immense relief washes through him. There’s less anxiety in his system now that he has someone to channel it towards. Keith hovers around Lance with a weird kind of protective vibe that makes Hunk want to smack him. Lance is sobbing into his shoulder within seconds.

“Hunk, buddy. I love you so much.”

“I missed you too, Lance,” Hunk murmurs, just barely catching the flash of jealousy on Keith’s face before he scowls and stalks off. Hunk rolls his eyes and squeezes Lance tight.

The family’s all home. Some more broken than others, but they’re home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: at LEAST 4k of separation aftermath. It may or may not be the last chapter. I haven't finished writing the chapter yet but I'll hopefully I'll have it finished by the end of the week. I started a new full time job this week and will be moving apartments either this weekend or next, so please have patience with me! 
> 
> Come scream at me about Voltron on tumblr! emfreddie.tumblr.com


	4. My heart is gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue is revived, Keith and Lance have bonding moments, Allura consoles Shiro, Pidge has existential thoughts, and Hunk's panic attack brings the gang back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO FINALLY PUMPED THIS BABY OUT. God. My time got sucked up with moving and starting full-time work and junk. I apologize for leaving y'all with that cliff-hanger.
> 
> Also unedited because I'm a lazy piece of shit and you've waited long enough. Enjoy!

Lance emerges from a short hour long stay in the healing pod to fix his remaining soreness and Keith is sitting there bandaging up his knuckles. Lance squints at him. “What did you do? Put your hand through a wall?”

Keith’s lips purse into a tight line. “Basically.”

“Okaaaaay,” Lance drags the vowel as he dodges around Mullet-boy. Keith’s obviously not in the mood to deal with him and although his heart aches for some kind of companionship, he doesn’t want to deal with Mr. Sourpuss either. The guy’s been prickly ever since he got back and Lance still hasn’t figured out why.

“Lance,” Keith starts as he reaches the door. Lance turns back to him with one eyebrow raised. “I’m… I’m glad you’re okay.”

Lance swallows and his muscles physically strain against the need to have physical contact with their speech. Words are great. Talking is great. But it isn’t enough. It doesn’t fill the empty hole in his chest formed by two months of complete solitude. Something in him keeps wanting to reach for other people, to cling to them, but that isn’t welcome by everyone and some other part of him recoils at the very thought of touching anyone.

He stands there clenching and unclenching his fists for a moment before he nods and strides out determinedly.

Lance lays awake at night curled around himself, his chest a blackhole where all his thoughts on his relationships get sucked in and spit back out mangled and angry. His fingers fist in his sheets as he tries to hold back tears. The absence pulls in all his emotions and gives back only dull pain. His head is starting to ring and his lips start to move on their own accord.

He flings his blankets off and stumbles out of his room, gasping for air. He goes to the hanger to see Blue but seeing her eyes dark and getting no questioning probe in his mind from her forces him back out. His hands wind into his hair and he can’t breathe until he’s somehow forced to while facing a droid in the training room.

The first time Lance feels Blue’s spark, he nearly faints with relief. He knows that Hunk and Pidge have been working diligently for the week to get his Lion back. And he sprints down to the hanger the second that he feels the surge from Blue. Lance puts a hesitant hand on her paw and Hunk pokes his head around the corner.

“You okay, Lance?” he asks.

He hasn’t talked to anyone about his fears about Blue besides briefly mentioning it to Keith on the surface of the planet when he was rescued. A sob blubbers from his lips and his knees give out as he wraps his arms around Blue’s leg. “I’m—I’m fine,” he stutters, tears blurring his vision. “I’m so fine.” He feels a comforting nuzzle from Blue on the edges of his mind and finds himself laughing.

_Don’t do that to me again, Blue._

He visits Blue more often after that and her presence just gets stronger the more that Hunk and Pidge work on her. To his surprise, Blue often urges him to the training room or the common room instead of staying with her. So many times those urgings lead him to one of his teammates.

Lance can’t help feeling grateful to Blue for her support.

 

 

Keith injures himself sparring with the training droid within the first few hours that Lance is back on board. He can’t explain it, he’s just _angry_. He’s angry with Shiro’s situation and Pidge’s sleeplessness and Hunk’s obvious anxiety that he tries to hide by fixing things and cooking. He’s angry with the way Lance looks like he’s about to burst into tears and how he holds himself back from everyone like his loneliness is a nuisance where he normally wouldn’t care how annoying he is. And he’s angry with himself for not being able to do anything about any of it.

He could take a first aid kit and just deal with this quietly in his room but instead he cradles his bleeding hand and his feet take him to the infirmary. Lance is in a healing pod and he stands there in front of it for a couple minutes just watching him. Sometimes Keith can’t help the warmth that fills his chest when Lance does something dumb.

But now he sees him and hears the desperation, the terror in his screams when they found him stranded on that planet.

_“I WANT TO GO HOME GODDAMMIT. GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE.”_

Keith swallows and finds some gauze. He can’t leave Lance yet though so he sits down on the step outside his pod and cleans up his hand until it slides open and Lance stumbles out. Even the way Lance jibs him isn’t completely right because he doesn’t follow through. And he stands there, looking torn between running and throwing punches and it’s just not right. It’s not _Lance_.

But worse than Lance being weird are the nightmares. Nightmares where he’s in the water and he’s fine until suddenly he’s sinking and when he breathes he chokes on water. Water pulling at his limbs and his hair and filling his lungs and replacing his blood. He wakes up and he can’t breathe and his blankets are the things pulling at his limbs. And he stumbles out of bed and leans against the wall, choking on imaginary water. He knows he’s not going to sleep again that night. So he trains.

He trains until he’s exhausted and then he keeps training. He’s bruised and scarred all over and he’s drowning all over again. Keith ends the training sequence and sits in the middle of the room on his knees until he gets his breath back and that is when Lance walks in, weird and wired with energy.

Keith stands quickly as Lance scowls and does that thing where he doesn’t know whether to run or punch.

“What are you doing?” Lance asks.

Keith lifts his hands and motions around. “Training?”

“It’s 3am.”

“What are _you_ doing?” Keith retorts. Lance opens his mouth then turns like he’s about to flee. Keith stops him with a question, “Wanna spar?” Then he backtracks super hard because that sounded way too casual. “I mean… It might help with the sleeplessness and stuff.”

“I’m not sleepless,” Lance says defensively.

“Lance it’s 3am and there are bags under your eyes.”

“Yeah, well--!”

“Lance,” Keith cuts in, “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s okay.”

Lance still has one finger raised in the air and his chest is puffed out but he deflates quickly. “Yeah. Let’s fight. Why the hell not, y’know?”

He stretches a bit while Keith tries to pretend he wasn’t drowning in his own emotions and memories a minute before Lance walked in.

They face off and trade a couple blows and kicks. Keith takes him down after two minutes and Lance lies on the mat groaning.

“You don’t give a guy a break.”

“I’m sorry. Did you want me to half-ass it?”

Lance brings his hands to his face and rubs it. “No. A pity win would be worse than losing. Especially if it’s you.” He looks exhausted but he hauls himself to his feet anyway. “Let’s go again.”

Keith brings him to the mat within 5 minutes this time and Keith grunts as Lance squirms under the hand on his back. “Alright I give already.” Keith lets up a little but stays close, watching Lance’s eyes as they droop. After a minute though he swings up and says, “Again.”

“Lance.” Keith’s voice shifts into disbelief. He’d just watched him practically fall asleep on the floor yet he wanted to keep throwing punches.

“Are you gonna fight me or be a chicken, Keith?” Lance asks as he gets into his fighting stance. Keith sighs and readies himself again too.

Lance hits the mat in under a minute and immediately curls up. Keith falls down next to him, worried that he’s hurt him but Lance just looks at him miserably and croaks, “I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep, idiot.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Lance refuses to answer. He hauls himself up and stumbles out the door and Keith can only hope that he’s going back to his room to sleep. Keith doesn’t get an answer until weeks later when they’re both sitting there on the mat after Keith’s taken him down (again).

“I… I can’t sleep alone.” Lance’s arm is thrown over his eyes so Keith can’t see much of his face but it looks like the admission pains him. “It sounds childish but I... I lay down to sleep and I just start… suffocating. I can't breathe if there isn’t someone in the room.”

“That’s why you’ve been falling asleep in the common room so much.”

Lance nods and then swallows, sucking in a deep breath that’s halfway to a sob. Keith scoots closer. “It’s like there’s this hole soaking up all my feelings and oxygen and just giving me back this… this _pain_ and…” he trails off and Keith sees tears leak out from behind his arm-barrier. “I don’t even know why I’m telling _you_ this of all people. I’m just… _so tired_ , I guess.”

He falls silent and Keith soaks in it for a moment before he decides he should offer something back. “I have nightmares that I’m drowning. That’s why I come here. I can’t sleep afterward. I figure if I fight the damn droid until I can’t breathe at least then I have an excuse to fall to the ground gasping.” The corners of his lips quirk and he lets himself drop down on his back next to Lance instead of sitting there with his arms around his knees.

Lance starts _laughing_ of all things and Keith glances to the side in alarm. “We’re all so fucked up!” he cackles. “All of us! God it’s like the fucking circus!” He throws his hands up in the air with his fingers spread and leaves them there.

“I mean, just fucking _look_ at us, Keith! It’s 4am and we’re fighting each other until we’re too physically exhausted to stay awake. Because you’re drowning in your dreams and it scares you to sleep and I’m terrified to sleep because I think I’ll wake up and no one will be there. Shiro’s gone—“

“Lance.”

“—off the fucking wall and can’t connect to Black, let alone anyone else besides Allura. Pidge is probably passed out at their goddamn desk because who knows how much they actually sleep in their bed. Hunk pretends that he’s fine but oh, there’s so much shit going on in his head. He’s just as fucked up—“

“Lance!”

“—as the rest of us and Coran and Allura are just barely holding this place together by the skin of their teeth. If Zarkon’s plan was to fuck us all up so much we wouldn’t be able to fight him, it’s worked surprisingly well and—“

“For fuck’s sake,” Keith groans.

“—with such little effort. Like _shit_ , Keith. I can’t stop talking because if I do I’ll fall asleep right here. I will fall asleep right fucking here and you’ll probably leave me here and I’ll wake up and have a panic att—“

“Lance!” Keith yells, now hovering over him and holding his arm. This time he effectively gets Lance’s attention and his words die in his throat. “I’m not going to just leave you alone, okay? Even if you fall asleep.”

Lance shrinks a little but his fingers grip Keith’s sleeve. “Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

Lance turns on his side and curls toward him and Keith thinks he’s sobbing in relief until he realizes that Lance has literally stopped talking and passed out instead, his arm curled under his head and the fingers of his opposite hand still wound in Keith’s sleeve.

Keith huffs a little and brushes the hair out of Lance’s face gently. “Idiot,” he whispers.

 

 

Allura finds Shiro curled up in his room and has to all but bodily drag him out just to eat most nights. And even then sometimes it doesn’t work and she has to bring it to him instead. He hates it. He’s supposed to be their leader but he can’t even find the strength to face his lion now. Before he had his memories he could at least be semi-functional. With them there’s always a body lurking in the corners of his vision, the echoes of a death-cry in his ears.

He wants to fight the Galra because logically he knows that they’re at fault for all of this. But it doesn’t change the fact that it is _his_ hands shredding lives to pieces and leaving a trail of blood behind him, _his_ eyes seeing his victims insides spread for all to see, _his_ ears hearing their screams.

He still questions whether the image of Matt and Samuel was something that actually happened or if it’s something that his mind conjured to torture him more. Either way he can’t look at Pidge knowing there’s a possibility that their family is never coming home because of him. He can’t look at Keith without remembering the man Shiro used to be and that Keith still expects to return. He can’t look at any of them, really.

They’re a bunch of teenagers and he’s supposed to be their role-model but… what kind of role model kills innocent people for sport?

“You’re doing it again,” Allura says softly from the doorway. His eyes dart up to her, heart racing in surprise. He hadn’t even heard the door open. “I can tell. You’re being hard on yourself for things you can’t control.”

He looks away but says nothing, drawing his knees closer to his chest. Allura steps up to the bed where Shiro’s perched and sits on the edge.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Shiro shakes his head. Allura reaches out and lays a hand on his arm—his flesh one—and he shudders because he remembers Haggar’s experiments. He remembers his arm being torn off and replaced by this monstrosity. And he knows it’s not real because he can’t _really_ feel anything other than obvious pressure and temperature changes in his prosthetic but sometimes it _hurts_ like it’s flesh and bone.

“Can you talk about something then? Just so I know you’re okay?”

The harsh bark of laughter that comes from Shiro’s mouth doesn’t even sound like him. “I’m not okay, Allura. I’m not sure if ‘okay’ is even in the realm of possibility.” Allura takes a deep breath and Shiro plunges on. “What do you want me to talk about? How Black can’t stand me because of what I’ve done? How the kids keep skirting around me like their poor war-broken dad is going to crack at a moment’s notice? How I’m haunted by people I don’t even _know_? Or do you want to talk about how a month ago I attacked the Castle and could have killed you?”

“You _know_ none of us blame you for that, Shiro,” Allura says gently.

“I blame _myself_ Allura.”

“You were hallucinating. You said so yourself. You thought we were a Galra battleship. And we fired first.”

“I could have _killed_ you… _You_ , Allura.”

“But you _didn’t_.”

Shiro tears his gaze from her and buries his face in his knees.

“You could talk to them you know,” Allura murmurs, hand moving along his arm soothingly. “They may be teenagers but they’ve undergone more than most people their age, just like you. Even Lance is wiser than he pretends to be.”

Shiro shakes his head again. “I can’t. I can’t tell them any of this, Allura. I can’t… I can’t face them.” He keeps his eyes pointed downward, careful not to look at her.

“Why not, Shiro?”

He lifts his head with an incredulous look in her direction. “Pidge is only _fourteen_! I’m not just going to drop some bombshell on them that I might have killed their family!” He realizes the words are out of his mouth before his filter was able to stop them. Allura’s eyebrows shoot up a little and her mouth opens but she says nothing. “You know why Black ejected me? Because I was hallucinating so badly that I was cutting apart the cockpit trying to attack an imaginary Haggar. Because Black must have sensed something _so_ evil and wrong within me, something that I _remembered_ , and decided that I wasn’t worthy anymore.”

Allura just looks troubled now. “But you’re destined to be the pilot of the Black Lion, Shiro. That wasn’t a mistake.”

“I think destiny screwed up this time.”

Allura draws herself up to her most regal and says, “Takashi Shirogane, you are being entirely too hard on yourself. You may have done things but that’s in the past isn’t it? You aren’t that man anymore.”

Shiro shakes his head miserably. “I always _was_ Allura. Don’t you get it? I’ve _killed_ people. Innocent people. I’ve torn them apart for entertainment. I have so much blood on my hands that it’s impossible to wash off. Matt and Samuel’s blood. My _friends_. I could crack one day and slaughter everyone on this ship.”

“Is that what you want, Shiro?” Allura demands. “You _want_ to be a killer?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then you _won’t_. You aren’t. You’re a wonderful pilot and a _good man_ , Shiro. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. You were pressured into doing some terrible things but those things do not define who you are. You attacked the ship because you thought that it was Galran. You thought it was _evil_ , Shiro. You always have known that the Galran Empire is an evil enterprise and you’ve fallen victim to them as well. And you’re fighting. You’re fighting the Empire and all the terrible things they stand for. You’re fighting the part of yourself that was aligned with them ever so briefly. That’s what counts. That’s what the others see in you. What makes you the right person to be their leader and the paladin for the Black Lion.”

If Shiro has tears in his eyes and on his cheeks because of her enormous faith in him, she says nothing about it. Both of her hands are on his knees and her eyes look into his earnestly.

“Somewhere inside all those haunting memories is your will to fight. You just have to find it again, Shiro. You will be able to connect with the Black Lion again soon. I have faith in that.”

“And what if you’re wrong? What happens then? It’s already been three months, Allura. The universe can’t wait for Voltron forever.”

“Then we will have to find someone else to pilot your lion, won’t we? I don’t think it will come to that though.” Her fingers reach up and brush through his hair and along his cheek and his body relaxes almost instantly, his face pressing into the touch. She smiles and leans down to press her lips to the top of his head. “You’ve survived so much, Shiro. I wish there wasn’t so much more to be expected of you. But we just have to take one step at a time, okay? And the first is going to be facing the team at dinner. Can you do that?”

Part of him screams that no he can’t do that while another that’s been inspired by her words, no matter how briefly, urges him to his feet. Allura slides her hand into his as a form of comfort and leads him toward the door.

She doesn’t let go when they reach the dining hall.

 

 

The electronic beat in Pidge’s headphones is erratic and echoes the pounding of their heart as they continue working on the AI they’d been forced to abandon before the wormhole incident. The idea had originally been to emulate each of the paladins’ families to alleviate some of the homesickness several of them had been feeling—particularly Lance. However, it’s quickly turned into a flashback terror-zone. They pause their music to listen to the AI’s speech patterns.

“ _We apologize_ —“

Pidge starts as the icy memory of steel against flesh flashes through their head with the tones of the robotic C.O.P. encounter. They shut off the sound and draw in a deep breath, nostrils flaring. They replace the apology with an ‘I’m sorry’ in the AI’s speech output and let it play some more.

“You know, we are worried for you here. But what you’re doing is important. Don’t forget your _spare parts_.”

Pidge flings their headphones off and turns away from the screen, shaking fingers reaching for their hair. Across the deck, Hunk looks at them curiously.

“You okay, Pidge?”

Pidge swallows. Nothing will come from worrying the others. “Yeah. The volume on the program was up louder than I expected it to be and it startled me.”

Hunk seems skeptical but doesn’t push them. They’re thankful for that at least. They honestly hadn’t expected the brief horrifying encounter with the C.O.P. to affect them this badly. They were safe. Green had gotten them out in time. Green had _saved_ them.

_“We did not realize you were the spares for the Lion.”_

Pidge grits their teeth. That’s right. Perhaps it was that reminder which was making them this anxious. The reminder that the paladins—all of them—despite how important they were to forming Voltron, each individual was replaceable. Others had come before them. Their five person team had replaced another. They would eventually be replaced by another. They _were_ the spare parts. The Lions were not.

Green’s comforting presence wraps around Pidge’s mind like a blanket and they try to shake the thought from their head. It was the same anxiety that had cropped up when they were first finding their lions. What if they were not enough some day? What if Green decided to lock Pidge out like Black had done to Shiro?

 _No_ , Green presses, _we are kindred spirits._

Pidge swallows hard as they pick up their headphones again and set them on their head. Sentient robots. Whoever had thought that sentient robots were a good idea should be shot. Pidge stares at the transcript of the AI’s speech then shuts down the program, turning their music back on instead.

Messing with an AI is not something they need right now. It would only bring trouble.

They needed to focus on finding Matt. Matt, who hopefully hadn’t been swallowed up by a sentient robot. Pidge’s hand curls into a fist and they feel Hunk’s eyes on them once more.

“I’m fine,” their voice automatically quips, fingers releasing and moving across their keyboard.

Hunk’s ‘If you say so’ is drowned out by the heavy electronic pounding in their ears. An hour later, Hunk leaves, and it’s only when the lights above shut off that Pidge realizes it’s about 3am in the ship’s earth-cycle.

_Hearts are just a part. Brains are just a part._

Their thoughts start to spin as their eyes droop. They’re exhausted—it’s probably been three days since they slept longer than 2 hours at a time—but sleep never comes.

The bass drops and Pidge sucks in a hard breath, eyes shooting wide.

_Humans are just a vastly complicated machine._

Pidge rubs their forehead. It’s too late for this. The darkness creeps around them, the light from the computer screen making eerie shadows in the corners of their vision. A metallic gleam comes from somewhere near where Hunk was working and Pidge’s stomach curdles.

They stand up and the lights, sensing the motion, come on dimly. Pidge’s heart pounds as they scoop up their computer and bolt in the direction of their room. There won’t be any sleeping tonight. Not that there has been since they all got back. And even if they do it will just be nightmares.  

 

 

Hunk is fine. Or at least, that’s what he tries to project to the rest of the team as they stand behind Shiro as he attempts to approach Black for what feels like the millionth time after so many failures. It’s better this time. Black isn’t growling right off the bat this time. Shiro is maintaining somewhat of a confident visage. It’s all fine. Allura had said that if Shiro couldn’t bond with Black again after this attempt, they’d have to wormhole jump again. So they’re all there, showing their leader the support he obviously needs but never said he wanted.

Lance and Keith are standing suspiciously close off to the side and Hunk just barely manages to not roll his eyes in Pidge’s direction as Lance leans in to mutter something in Keith’s ear that makes him crack a smile, if only a strained one.

Allura is right beside Shiro the whole time as he talks to Black and they all hold their breath waiting for Black’s reaction as her eyes blink to life. Pidge is biting their lip and Hunk feels for them. Shiro has become their surrogate dad, but he hasn’t been able to be very fatherly since he returned. He hasn’t had the mental stability without Black behind him.

“I’m the same man I always was,” Shiro says gently and Black bows her head and gives a roar that wakes the other four Lions around them, who echo it.

A roar of acceptance as Black pushes her nose into Shiro’s outstretched hand. Hunk lets out a breath.

“Awesome,” he says, “So that means that we _don’t_ have to wormhole ju--?”

A blaring siren cuts him off and Coran’s voice appears on the speakers. “Our sensors have picked up a Galra battleship! We either need to jump or fight!”

Hunk can _feel_ the blood running from his face. Yeah, he’s gone out in Yellow since he got back, but he hasn’t fought in her, and they haven’t had to jump in the castle yet either. He can feel his lungs closing up and shuts his eyes as Allura orders them to their Lions.

Black obediently opens her mouth for Shiro to climb in and around them the four others are opening for their paladins. Hunk stays frozen for a moment, watching his friends dive back into their Lions. He just barely catches the look on Lance’s face as he lets go of Keith’s hand, barely sees the look that passes between them.

Hunk’s fingers curl into a fist and he forces his legs to propel him toward Yellow. He takes a breath as he sits behind he controls, trying to smooth out his stuttered breathing. Yellow’s consciousness wraps around him like a blanket, like home, but her comfort doesn’t stop the raging _terror_ sitting behind his breast as he hears Coran warn, “There’s a bit of debris floating around out there and a meteor shower is expected soon, so let’s be careful and clean this up before the shower, eh?”

Hunk’s grip on the controls is stronger than death itself. Lance opens a private line to him and he realizes that his heavy breathing had been broadcast to the entire team. He shuts his mic down really quick.

“You okay buddy?” Lance asks and his image is so earnest that Hunk can’t just pretend.

“No,” he says voice cracking as all five Lions are launched out into space.

Something behind him hisses and Hunk closes his eyes, chanting under his breath, “Imagination. It’s your imagination. There’s no pressure leak.”

The Galra have dispatched a small fleet of fighters already and Hunk tries not to imagine what orders their being given on their comms as he sets them alight.

“Bet this wasn’t what you were expecting from a reunion with Black, eh, Shiro?” he calls, switching his mic back on. He’s trying to keep it lighthearted. Trying not to imagine dark magic coursing through their Lions or Shiro going ballistic again. Worst case scenarios were so rare, right?

Then another battleship appears as backup and Allura says, “They’re just going to keep sending back up fighters. We need Voltron to finish this quickly.”

Hunk sucks in a breath, flipping the switch on his mic. Shiro’s voice sounds strained as he says, “I’m not… I don’t think we can do that yet, Allura.”

“Then create an opening long enough to get back to your hangars for a jump.”

“Can’t we _try_?” Pidge demands. “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and I guess we’ll have to do more ‘team bonding’ or whatever but could we at least _try_ to form Voltron?”

“Hunk on your right!” Keith yells just as a fighter with a blown engine barrels into him. And that’s when Hunk loses all sense of calm that he has. It’s too much like rocks hitting him over and over and over again. It’s too much like being dented and sliced until the only place he can be is the cabin. It’s _too much_.

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and he can’t think and he can’t even look at Yellow’s controls. He thinks something else hits him. The hissing sound from before increases. Yellow tries to calm him by sending out waves of protectiveness but it doesn’t reach him. There’s a whining sound that takes him forever to figure out is him.

“Hunk!”

They’re all going to know that he can’t do this. They’re all going to know how _not_ okay he is.

“Hunk! Respond!”

“Hunk are you okay?”

Shiro takes command while Hunk is stuck in his seat trying not to imagine the walls caving in on him. “Alright, obviously Voltron isn’t happening today. On my mark, everyone pull back to the hangars!”

Yellow floats aimlessly as Hunk panics and Keith and Lance rally beside him on either end, trying to get him to respond.

“Hunk you gotta move,” Keith’s saying.

“Come on buddy. We’ll have a big huge cuddle-fest once we’re back in the castle,” Lance promises and Hunk would answer about how amazing that sounds if he wasn’t currently worried that the air in his Lion is too thin, too void-like.

“NOW!” Shiro yells and he uses his mouth blade to cut through a dozen fighters at once while Pidge and Keith fire a volley of lasers at the back end of the crowd.

“Hunk, we gotta move,” Lance says, and Hunk latches onto his voice, nervous but as calm as it can be in this situation. “If we don’t move. We’re gonna die. For real this time. We gotta get back to the ship. And I know you’re panicked right now. But you’ll live through it. You aren’t gonna live if you don’t move RIGHT NOW though.”

A noise halfway between a whine and a swear leaves Hunk’s mouth and he manages to move his hand enough to put the thrusters on full blast and give Yellow auto-dock function.

When Lance gets Yellow open and comes into the cabin he catches the tail-end of Hunk’s panic attack. He does the only thing a decent friend would do. He keeps a distance far enough that won’t smother him while being close enough that he can grab him if he needs to. And he does. He pulls Lance into a bone-crushing hug and Lance’s fingers ghost over his shoulders comfortingly.

Hunk buries his face in Lance’s shoulder and lets out his shuddering breaths/sobs as Allura opens a wormhole and guides the castle through it. He doesn’t let go when Coran announces that they’ve reached safe space but he lets Keith and Pidge in on the hug when they approach, Keith more sheepish than Pidge.

They’re almost complete as they sit in silence in a giant group hug around Hunk. Then Shiro appears, hesitantly and looking totally out of his element. It takes one statement of, “Get in here, _Dad_ ,” from Pidge to make him join them for a team-hug-out.

Hunk’s sobs subside and Lance is grinning at Keith in a very _not_ subtle way. Keith is smiling back, Pidge’s eyes are bright, and Shiro just looks relieved.

They’re together again. All a little broken but they’re a team. They’ll figure it out.

Despite the fact that they have yet to form Voltron in their broken states, Hunk can’t help but agree with Lance’s shout, “We’re back, baby!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is IT. The end. It was very cathartic for me and I hope y'all enjoyed. I dunno when (or if) I'll be back with anymore Voltron fics but this has been a ride from start to finish and I'm very pleased with the response! (Who am I kidding? I'll probably need to write more after season 2 comes out.) 
> 
> For now, I'm out!
> 
> As always you can come scream about Voltron (or Mystic Messenger or Tokyo Ghoul or anything really) with me on tumblr: emfreddie.tumblr.com


	5. BONUS (or should I say penalty): My hands are cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Angst! 
> 
> Pidge and Shiro finally have a talk and it doesn't go as well as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CANNOT LEAVE WELL-ENOUGH HAPPINESS ALONE I AM SORRY. YOU CAN TOTALLY DISREGARD THIS ANGST AND HEART-BREAK AND KEEP THE HAPPY ENDING IF IT SUITS YOU. 
> 
> I've been feeling off and my depression's been on an upswing and I thought of this in the shower and word-vomit happened. I'm sorry. Oh my god I'm sorry. 
> 
> Takes place between Pidge's and Hunk's parts in chapter 4!!

Pidge has a dream a few weeks before Hunk’s panic attack that sends them spiraling out of sleep and into a screaming abyss. It’s probably 300 years in the future, maybe more, hell if they even know, but they’re still fighting Zarkon. Still running around the universe trying to save planets from impending doom in a never-ending circle of destruction and replacement.

It’s 300 years in the future and Pidge’s veins are filled with more motor oil than blood. Keith’s hair is more synthetic fiber than actual hair. Lance’s voice is more robotic and dry than lively and humored. Hunk’s cooking is unneeded and more so unwanted because their stomachs are all pumps. And Shiro has more metal to him than just his one arm.

The same paladins, living on forever, fighting a useless war, growing less human and more machine. More of a cog, less of a person.

When Pidge wakes up, they’re sweating buckets, screams of terror on their lips, and they aren’t alone. Shiro stands in the doorway watching them, with mild alarm in his eyes. Pidge swallows a couple times, words trying to push through their throat to no avail. Their eyes wander to Shiro’s arm and Shiro winces at the attention to it. His body shifts to hide it.

“Bad dream?” Shiro finally asks after he regards Pidge for a while longer. Pidge snorts and tries to start up their computer again. “Want to talk about it?”

Pidge swallows back a biting reply. Shiro hasn’t even _looked_ at them for nearly four months and _now_ he’s back to being all dad-ly? What the _fuck_? “No,” Pidge says, trying to keep the edge from their voice.

Shiro glances back towards the doorway as if asking someone something and Pidge honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Allura is back there urging him forward. “Look, I’m… sorry I haven’t been around for you as much lately, Pidge.”

Pidge snorts again. “You haven’t looked at me in four months.”

Shiro winces again. “I’m really sorry. I haven’t been myself.”

“You could say that again,” they mutter as they enter their login credentials into the computer.

“I’m trying.”

Pidge looks up at the _strain_ and guilt in Shiro’s voice but all they can see if metallic parts and glowing artificial lighting. They close their eyes. “Do you have any idea what’s been going on with any of us? Why it’s so hard for us to form Voltron?”

Shiro opens his mouth then closes it tightly. Pidge nods. “Thought so. You might be the team dad but you’re still really behind.”

“I’m trying,” Shiro says again in that same strained voice.

“Try harder. Start by telling me exactly why you can’t look at me, even now.”

“I…” Shiro stops, eyes staring directly at Pidge’s form hunched in front of the computer. Then his eyes glaze over and Pidge realizes that they’ve made a mistake demanding this from him. It’s too much. Pidge rips their eyes back to their screen.

“Nevermind. Just… forget I said anything.”

“Y-You remind me of Matt.”

Pidge’s eyes are a deer’s in headlights at Shiro’s choked answer. Their mouth opens slightly, whether it’s to yell or stop Shiro, they’re not sure.

“And what I…” Shiro’s eyes tear away from Pidge and his shoulders hunch, his body curling in on itself. “We… we won’t stop looking for them, Pidge. Just… don’t… no…no, you should… you should hate me if we find them how I’m scared we will.”

Pidge’s mouth has gone dry, their hands have gone ice cold and curled so tightly they’re surprised their nails aren’t drawing blood. “W-What are you saying?”

“We won’t stop looking for them but… I’m not sure you’re going to like the state we find them in, if we do...”

Pidge can’t breathe. Shiro’s face is shadowed in so much guilt it’s practically morphing before them. Machines with her brother’s face pop into their mind and tears start filling their eyes. “You remembered something didn’t you?”

“I…”

“Tell me, Shiro.” Shiro’s eyes are wide with fear and potential panic once again but Pidge can’t stop their own terror from overwhelming them. “Tell me.”

“I-I can’t.”

“I will only hate you if you don’t tell me what you know.”

Shiro’s Adam’s apple bobs with the words stuck in their throat. One of his hands reaches for his head while the other shakes in front of him. “Oh god,” he breathes, shaking and rubbing an imaginary substance off his hands. “No, no.”

“Shiro—“

“Blood,” Shiro whispers, eyes roaming from his hands up to Pidge’s face. “So much… I’m sorry, Matt.”

The tears in Pidge’s eyes spill over and they bolt from the room as Shiro’s stilted breathing worsens into violent gasps. Allura is standing in the hallway outside the door and she barely gets to open her mouth before Pidge shoves past her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible human because I said I was done but then this happened and now I'm mad at myself because I'm not even planning to give the bonus (PENALTY!!) chapter proper resolution. Whoops. Sorry friends. I'm a shitty human. 
> 
> COME SCREAM ABOUT VOLTRON WITH ME ON TUMBLR: emfreddie.tumblr.com


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